


Catching You Off Guard

by justanexercise



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/F, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Oral Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 20:54:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2482112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanexercise/pseuds/justanexercise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha defects to SHIELD and Maria Hill catches her interest. Why can this Alpha resist such a delectable Omega such as herself?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catching You Off Guard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlesolo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlesolo/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [Catching You Off Guard](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11143950) by [Galileo_Tracy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galileo_Tracy/pseuds/Galileo_Tracy)
  * Inspired by [take my belt and shoelaces](https://archiveofourown.org/works/827372) by [lanyon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanyon/pseuds/lanyon). 



> Warnings: The usual for alpha/beta/omega dynamics, but also I’m altering this trope to my views. So ya’ll a/b/o purists, this is so not one.

The Alphas are mindless brutes to their cravings. The Omegas control their own biology. The Betas bend down to them both.

-

The Red Room creates something the Americans can never even emulate. The Americans have their Alpha Captain America, but the Soviet Union has their Omega Black Widow.

Natalia Romanova is the first perfect specimen of an Omega. One who can control her Heat, her scent, her pheromones to her own advantage.  
  
Her loyalty lies with the Red Room. She makes them feel invincible. Until the USSR crumbles within itself and the Black Widow serves no one but herself.

-

It’s only a matter of time when SHIELD catches up to her; she expects a bullet to the brain, not an arrow to the thigh.

Clint Barton aka Hawkeye is not the first SHIELD agent tasked to kill her. But he is the first to try and recruit her. Maybe that’s why the Black Widow doesn’t release her pheromones to render him into a writhing heap of brainless animal.

That doesn’t mean Natasha spares the other agents coming into her interrogation room to intimidate her.

Betas. Pathetic.

She has them kneeling in front of her in less than 5 seconds; her pheromones rendering their brains to the most basic level of functions. At least two of them were proficient with their mouths. It’s a shame SHIELD gets wise after five agents and drags the sniveling messes they call professionals out wearing gas masks.

They find out just how powerful the Black Widow is. The next agent wearing a gas mask submits to her in three minutes.

Not even an Omega is immune to her.

What comes next surprises her. They send in an Alpha. Not just any Alpha either, Deputy Director Maria Hill.

Natasha blinks.

SHIELD just gives her the most vulnerable and powerful person they have. To what? Impress her?

Natasha grins, this will be fun. Especially with how Maria has her arms crossed, her expression stoic. Natasha will enjoy having that face in between her thighs in complete submission. She rolls her neck, not bothering to hide her naked body.

Except Maria continues to stare at her face, even after Natasha releases her scent. She tries again, upping her pheromones that should send even an Omega crawling to her.

“Suppressants?” Natasha asks after 10 minutes of silence. She’s sweating from the exertion, her body at the tipping point into Heat.

Maria hasn’t even flinched. “Are you ready to speak with us Widow?”

“How did SHIELD create suppressants for Alphas?”

Maria clenches her jaw, taking an extra second to consider the question. “They didn’t.”

“Who did?”

“I’m not on suppressants.”

Natasha stares, taking her in. There’s no tells on this woman, no indication she’s speaking anything but the truth. That can’t be possible. “Okay.”

The Black Widow will find out, sooner or later, what secret SHIELD has to create someone like Maria Hill.

In the meantime, Natasha’s in Heat by her own doing, and there’s a woman she’s more than interested in having between her legs. She leans back, jutting her chest out and smiling seductively.

“Well?” Natasha asks, spreading her knees. “Are you here to recruit me?”

Maria’s eyes never stray from Natasha’s head. “Are you in Heat Widow?”

“You’re an Alpha, you tell me.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have tried so hard to draw me in,” Maria parries. “We’ll speak after.”

Natasha licks her lips; Maria would be too hoarse to speak with her after. Apparently, Maria has the ability to shock Natasha more than once a day. Maria opens the door to their room and an agent stumbles into the room. Blonde. Cute. Beta.

“Try not to break her,” Maria says over her shoulder as she goes out. The door locks with several beeps.

Natasha stares at the closed door, but her attention goes to the whimpering Beta. The Beta is already shivering, sweat beads running down the sides of her face. Natasha tilts her head. She’ll do, for now.

-

SHIELD resources are entirely lacking any useful data on Maria Hill. Even the un-redacted files contain little to no information about Maria’s biology. Just the bare minimum. Natasha suspects Maria using her position to scrub key points of her file.

No matter, the Black Widow isn’t only skilled at computer hacking, her strength lies in infiltration, and with that comes extracting information without the target knowing they’ve been interrogated. She makes connections with agents across the Triskelion and the Helicarrier down to the guards and janitors who know more about national security than anyone ever should. It’s a vital security leak. She doesn’t mention it to Fury.

Not even her advanced tactics are working. Maria Hill is a challenge, one she hasn’t had the pleasure of figuring out in a long time.

The rumors are ridiculous.

-          Hill is bonded with Fury, an Alpha.

Natasha can smell bonds, they are not bonded.

-          Hill is already bond mates with someone

Refer to previous analysis, she is not bonded with anyone.

-          Hill’s killed her bond mate.

That’s ludicrous; Maria has never had a bond mate.

-          Hill’s sterilized.

Maria wouldn’t be emitting a scent if she had been and oh does Natasha know that scent.

-          Hill secretly has a sex slave.

Natasha rolls her eyes at this one.

-          Hill has no Heat.

Maria is too healthy to not have one.

In the end, Natasha deems SHIELD intelligence to be subpar.

It’s only agents such as: Barton – childish but superb in the field, Coulson – soft spoken but efficient, Fury – asshole but has a good eye (Natasha grins at her pun), and Hill that keeps Natasha from jumping ship.

-

It’s chance that Natasha finds a shred of information that can be useful. She’s sparring on the mat with Sharon that she smells it. Natasha pins Sharon down and Sharon rears her head back, snapping it against Natasha’s nose. Maria’s scent is on Sharon’s hair, very faint, but it’s there.

Natasha growls. Sharon only takes it as irritation to the bloody nose Natasha sports. It’s not. Natasha gives it her all then, running and bringing down Sharon with her signature move, whirling her legs around Sharon and bringing her down with her thighs. Sharon lays down, dazed and only narrowly misses Natasha’s foot coming down to crack her sternum by pure instinct. She rolls out of the way and jumps to her feet, hands raised.

Luckily for Sharon, their mat time is up.

Natasha watches her as she gathers her gear, giving Natasha a nod as she exits the gym. Natasha stays sitting on the bench, mulling over the news.

“What’s with the serious eyes Tasha?” Clint plops down next to her.

She closes her eyes and exhales. Somehow Clint’s become her friend. It’s disconcerting. He’s the only one allowed to call her Tasha and not suffer a broken collarbone for it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Those eyes, right there, serious eyes. Something to do with Carter and your bloody nose? Please don’t go out and kill her for one upping you,” he points to the trail of blood down her chin.

She takes the towel he offers up and wipes it down. She didn’t notice.

“She got in a lucky shot.”

“Huh, lucky? Or were you day dreaming about Hill again?”

It’s only due to her extensive training that Natasha doesn’t freeze up at that question, instead she turns an impassive look at him and raises an eyebrow.

“What? That’s not like a secret or something is it?”

It should be. If he’s noticed, who else –

Clint reads the thought in her eyes, “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone. Or well maybe Coulson knows too but he’s trained to know these things.”

She nods. At least Clint is smart enough to not pry.

“Plus you really can’t mess with Carter if you want to get on Hill’s good side.”

Or maybe he does have a death wish. But she will spare him for more information. It seems he’s been keeping them from her.

“What do you mean by that?”

He gives her a look, one questioning her intelligence. It’s not a look Natasha’s used to getting.

“Really?” he asks incredulously.

“What?”

“Wow, how are you the best spy ever?” he starts laughing.

Natasha doesn’t feel the least bit guilty punching him in the face.

It’s a shame; she never does get a straight answer out of him, even with his face pressing against the mat and her knee painfully between his shoulders. Clint can’t seem to stop laughing at her.

-

Natasha pays attention to Sharon Carter. They’ve gone on a few missions together; she’s relatively new to the field but proficient. She doesn’t have to worry about Sharon getting herself killed or worse, get in her way.

On the surface, Maria and Sharon don’t interact very often, if at all. Only on the rarest of occasions are they even in the same room, and that’s due to Maria having to personally go down to reprimand an agent. Natasha see’s though. The nods they give each other. The cursory glances. They’re checking up on each other.

Natasha’s not as subtle as she thinks she is. Sharon comes by her quarters in SHIELD.

“Carter,” Natasha lets her into the room. “What brings you by?”

Sharon crosses her arms and levels a stare. That stance is familiar, Maria does it better.

“Maria.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“You’ve been stalking her.”

Stalking is a bit over the top, observing would be a better term.

“What gives you that idea?” Natasha pours herself a glass of water, picture perfect nonchalance.

“We’re trained to notice things. I noticed.”

“Hmm…”

“Why?”

“You’re the great spy, you tell me.”

Sharon narrows her eyes. “What are you trying to achieve?”

Natasha raises an eyebrow.

Undeterred, Sharon asks, “Why? What is it that…oh.” Sharon’s mouth drops, surprised, it morphs into a smile. “Huh. Does the Black Widow have a crush?”

“What?” Natasha takes a step back. That…that’s absurd.

“Those stares make sense now.”

“You’re insane Carter.”

Sharon huffs and pins Natasha with a death glare.

“I do not have a crush on Maria Hill.”

“Sure you don’t,” Sharon teases.

Natasha grits her teeth. She does not. She’ll prove it.

Sharon’s eyes widen at the pheromones invading her senses. She breaks her own nose. The pain and blocked nasal passage giving her just enough time to run out the room.

Natasha stares at the open door. No one’s actually done that before. It’s a neat trick.

Hearing nearby moans in the hallway due to her pheromones, Natasha quickly bolts the door shut. She’s not in the mood.

 

An hour later, three sharp knocks on her door disrupts her relaxation time. Natasha sighs and dog ears her book. She cracks the door open only for it to be shoved open and Maria marches in.

“Come in,” Natasha says, shutting the door.

Maria spins around and glares. “Explain to me why I had to incapacitate five agents from humping your door.”

Natasha shrugs. “I had a slip up.”

“Don’t,” Maria says. “We both know you do not have slip ups. Why did you release your pheromones? We have rules and lockdown procedures.”

Natasha straightens her back. “By the time I could, it was too late.”

“Does it have anything to do with Agent Carter’s broken nose?”

“Did she say that?” Natasha inspects her nails.

Maria grinds her teeth. “No. You are aware of the surveillance here. She ran out of here clutching her face. Why did you release your pheromones?”

“What, scared I’ll take your toy away?” Natasha leans against her kitchen counter. She notes the ticking muscle along Maria’s jaw.

“Toy?” Maria asks, her eyebrows shooting up. “You think Sharon and I are involved?”

Natasha stays impassive, holding Maria’s stare.

The corner of Maria’s mouth threatens to turn up into a smile. “Next time you want information about me, ask me.”

Natasha blinks. Just ask? Is it really as simple as that?

“You’d answer them?” _Truthfully?_ The silent question.

“I might, you never know until you ask.” Maria brushes past Natasha as she walks out the door. Her head turns back a bit. “Consider this an informal warning Agent Romanoff, there will not be another incident of unsanctioned intentional release of pheromones. Do I make myself clear?”

Natasha mock salutes with her left hand rather than her right. “Yes ma’am.”

-

She would like to say things get easier after. It does a little.

The next time Natasha sees Sharon, her nose is reset perfectly, only a slight bruise mars her face. Natasha doesn’t apologize, but she does let Sharon punch her jaw. It clicks for the entire day, not a bad punch. She even lets Sharon keep her in a chokehold longer than five seconds. After they spar, Sharon gives her a nod and leaves.

Sharon may not be a fan of hers, but she’s also not her enemy. Natasha already has far too many of them.

“Romanoff,” Sharon says, steering them both to an empty table in the cafeteria.

Natasha sets her tray of half healthy food down, fries don’t count do they? She waits for Sharon to speak, but Sharon’s already eating, Natasha does the same.

“You started without me,” Maria says behind Natasha.

Pausing mid-bite, Natasha turns as Maria sits next to her.

“Hungry,” Sharon replies.

“Good workout then?” Maria asks them both, breaking the seal of her water.

Sharon shrugs. “Got a few good punches in, right Romanoff?”

Natasha shakes her head and casually sips her water. “One good punch.”

Maria chuckles beside her, Natasha files that sound away.

-

That’s how it starts. The lunch dates as Clint would infuriatingly call them. Even though they weren’t dates at all, Sharon would be there and if she weren’t then Clint would be. Coulson is in attendance a few times.

It’s a thing…

She doesn’t eat alone at lunch anymore.

Of course that starts to bleed into her dinners too.

It’s actually Maria who throws her an invite to a pub near headquarters. Sharon’s of course going too, and Clint, it’d been a blanket invitation to the table.

“What’s good here Hill?” Clint asks, scouring the menu.

“I stick to their fried foods, but I think they’re all pretty good. The craft beers though, that’s what I’m here for.”

“A beer drinker? I pegged you for a glass of red at night,” Clint says.

Maria shrugs and flags down a waiter. “Who says I don’t?”

“Ohhh that sounds like a challenge to me, doesn’t it Tasha?” Clint elbows her. “Come on, me and you Hill, last man standing!”

Natasha kicks him under the table, just hard enough to sting, but it doesn’t deter Clint the slightest.

“What’ll be your poison? I’m more of a tequila man myself, bet you’d like some Russian in you wouldn’t you Hill?” He grins and gives an exaggerated wink.  “Vodka?”

Natasha carries tranquilizer darts everywhere and his neck is right there. Her fingers brush against the darts but stop at Maria’s chuckle.

“Maybe after dinner Barton. As for the vodka, what do you think Romanoff? Any recommendations?”

“Depends, you drink it straight or go for the fruity flavors?” Natasha leans back in the booth.

“Guys, really?” Sharon pipes up next to Maria. “I am not dragging your drunk ass back home Maria. If you throw up on the couch again I swear you’re buying a new one.”

“That was one time,” Maria rolls her eyes. “And it wasn’t even your couch.”

“There is a story to this and I need to hear it,” Clint rests his elbows on the table.

“No,” Maria says. “You will not hear it.”

Clint pouts and looks towards Sharon, who only gives a shrug in response. “Sorry, I still have to live with her, unless you can buy me a new apartment.”

“I think your paycheck is higher than mine Agent 13.”

Sharon sighs dramatically. “Then sorry Hawk, it shall remain a secret.”

“I should really just kick you out,” Maria shakes her head.

“But you won’t.”

Natasha pointedly sips her beer, absorbing the light banter and new information about Maria. “Roommates?”

“We’ve been living together since we were kids,” Sharon supplies with a grin.

Natasha blinks. That was definitely not in the files. “You’re not related though.”

Sharon shakes her head. “No, not by blood.”

The thread stops there at the sudden downtrodden atmosphere. At least the conversation picks back up when the food arrives thanks to Clint and Sharon having a mini spoon and knife joust. Clint only wins when he flicks a pea between Sharon’s eyes.

Natasha concentrates on Maria though, who narrates their fight. Her voice reveals nothing, but Natasha can see through her eyes that she’s not entirely here.

-

“Can you just ask her out already?”

Clint fires four consecutive arrows at the guards blocking their way. Five of them crumble to the ground, one arrow going through to hit the guard behind him.

“What?” Natasha jumps behind a wall for cover.

“Hill, ask her out.”

“What the hell Barton, we’re in the middle of something!” Natasha shoots two snipers off the roof.

“And we can talk about it at the same time, stop avoiding it Tasha. You’ve been tip toeing around it for like a month!”

“I have not,” Natasha denies. She back kicks and breaks the leg of a scrawny guard who really shouldn’t have come to work today.

“We’ve even given you openings, why haven’t you taken them?”

“Openings?”

Clint rolls his eyes, letting off another arrow behind them. It hits the lock of the door, sealing it. “Yea, openings. The sudden flaking from us both? Oh God have you not noticed?”

So that’s what those were. She just figured they were both being assholes. Well they are being jerks actually.

“Why do I have to do it?” Natasha asks. She plugs in the flash drive onto the computer, disabling the firewall in less than ten seconds and downloading the research AIM has.

Clint stands off the doorway, arrow at the ready. “Cause Hill’s got some sort of thing against asking subordinates out.”

“How do you know that?”

“Carter and I talk.”

Natasha’s fingers freeze on the keyboard. “Are you trying to get into Carter’s pants?”

“I’m not,” Clint barely manages to not roll his eyes. “We’re bros. Like you and me.”

“Barton, we are not bros. Do not ever say that again.”

“Fine, buddies, whatever your favored term is. But really, you have to do the asking.”

Natasha drums her fingers along the computer monitor, 60% downloaded. “To what though?”

“I don’t know, a movie?”

“How middle school.”

“Dinner then?”

“Dinner?”

“Yea just the two of you, it would be a date then.”

“But we’ve—“ Natasha stops mid-breath and pulls out the flash drive. Mission complete, now time to bail.

“Hold on, what was that?” Clint shoots her a look.

“What? It’s done, let’s go.” She jumps on the table and yanks out the air vent cover.

“No really, you two have gone on dinners?” He asks, shimmying behind her in the air duct. “Just the two of you?”

“…Yes.”

“Tasha…”

“What?”

He pokes her in the calf and she stomps on his forehead.

“Ow…”

“Oh quit whining that was barely anything.”

She punches open the vent on the roof and jumps out, activating the beacon for the retrieval helicopter. Clint grunts and pitches forward behind her.

“So you and Hill have gone on dinners, alone.”

“Yes, what’s your point?”

“Tasha you dumbass, you’ve been dating Hill!”

Natasha drops her arm and stares at him as he face palms. She studies the gravel beside her feet. Huh. So they have been.

-

This is the fifth date, or is it the first? How does this work? Does she restart counting when she realizes they’re dating or start when they first had dinner by themselves?

Natasha pokes at her salmon and takes a small bite.

“You okay?” Maria asks, setting her glass of water down.

“Just thinking.”

“Anything I can help with?” Maria teases, bouncing her eyebrows.

“Actually yes,” Natasha sets down her fork and bridges her hands together.

“Oh…” Maria leans back a bit and also sets her utensils down. “Okay.”

“What date number are we on?”

Maria blinks. In fact she keeps blinking. Her lips turn into a small grin and she gently shakes her head. “When do you think we started dating Natasha?”

Natasha chews her lip. Would it be the first time they went out alone because Clint and Sharon ditched them? Or would it be the second time after Maria asked her if she craved sushi? Third time when Natasha said she would kill for a nice steak?

“Oh,” Maria mumbles. “So this isn’t about a third date rule then.”

“Do you have that rule?” Natasha smirks and leans on her hand.

“I don’t actually.”

“Good to know. So, would this be a third date in your books?”

Maria smiles, running the tip of her finger along the rim of her glass. “Well, this would qualify as a pre-date then wouldn’t it?”

“Pre-date?”

“Ms. Romanoff, would you like to accompany me to a walk in the park followed by some ice cream?”

“I thought you didn’t do the asking.”

“At your speed, we’d be having dinner non-dates for a year before you made a move.”

“I totally made a move! I asked you out for steak,” Natasha crosses her arms.

“Apparently it wasn’t a date, so we’re starting at a big fat zero.”

Natasha nods, at least they have an official start date. “So…that third date rule, negotiable?”

Maria rolls her eyes and laughs good naturedly. “We’ll see.”

-

Natasha gets a kiss on the cheek after their first real date in front of Maria and Sharon’s apartment. She ignores the whistle Sharon does when she walks away, the satisfying sound of Sharon getting hit upside the head helps.

Maria kisses her full on the lips on the third date after making an excuse about melted chocolate on the side of Natasha’s lips. Natasha doesn’t stop smiling the entire night. The good night kiss lasts for a full five minutes before they’re interrupted by Maria’s neighbor.

After the fourth date, Natasha stops counting. There are stolen kisses in offices, between meetings, in hidden corridors.

-

Natasha stops midway down the corridor from her walk back to her table from the restroom. She blinks and steps closer, now within earshot of Maria and an attractive woman who’s sitting in her seat. Natasha stands a ways off, observing.

She sniffs discreetly, catching the potent scent of Omega. The woman is young, maybe mid-20s, fresh out of college by the looks of it. Cute but Natasha has some serious doubts about her intelligence with how overt her flirting is.

Maria sits back, shaking her head at the woman. “It’s dangerous what you’re trying to do.”

“Not if I have a big bad Alpha to protect me.”

“I’m here with someone,” Maria says.

Natasha takes another discreet look around the cozy sandwich shop Maria and her decide to try for lunch. Mostly workers coming in for lunch, some students and some unemployed, Natasha see’s why the woman targets Maria. Maria’s dressed smartly, nothing too gaudy and shiny, but obviously Maria has disposable income to splurge on designer brand clothing that is tailored to her body. Maria’s posture conveys a sense of power; she’d make a very good bond mate. And the fact that Maria is hot.

And Maria is with Natasha.

“Hey babe,” Natasha marks her territory, kissing Maria on the cheek, leaving a smudge of lipstick. “Who’s this?”

Natasha let’s a bit of danger flow through her stare and luckily the woman is intelligent enough to sense a threat.

“Sorry,” she says, stumbling to stand up. “I …uh.”

“Wait,” Maria says, holding a hand out to stop her. “This is a very dangerous game you’re playing,”

Natasha smells it then, the woman is almost in Heat. Give or take today or tomorrow. Dangerous to be out without taking suppressants or dampeners. Of course Maria would be worried about this.

“I can take care of myself,” she says, standing up to full height.  

“Alphas don’t care about consent,” Maria states, staring her down.

“I’m well aware of that, I’ve been an Omega my entire life.”

“Then you should know you already started to emit pheromones, low-level.”

Natasha didn’t even smell that, not yet, not until Maria mentions it. She takes a scan around, some Alphas and Betas are already eyeing the woman up.

The woman sits up and looks around, seeing the stares. She turns back to Maria, the fear creeping into her eyes.

“Where do you live?” Maria stands up, guarding her and sending a look to the other Alphas and Betas until they cower.

“Just down the block.”

“Good, we’re escorting you back.”

She looks between Maria and Natasha. “How can I trust you then? You’re an Alpha.”

“Good thing we have another Omega here to stop me then don’t we?” Maria tilts her head towards Natasha.

The woman takes another sweep around the room, settling on the less obvious threat and taking Maria’s outstretched hand.

When they arrive at her apartment, she glances at Maria, confusion evident. “How…” she starts and shuffles back. “Nevermind.”

“What?”

“Why weren’t you affected?” she asks.

Maria smirks and shakes her head. “Maybe your pheromones just aren’t that attractive to me.”

“I’d normally take offense to that, but thank you, I guess.”

At the walk back to the Triskelion, Natasha leans against Maria and wraps an arm around her waist while Maria throws her arm over her shoulder.

“So my pheromones weren’t attractive to you the first time we met?” Natasha teases.

Maria raises an eyebrow. “Are you trying to ask me something Natasha?”

“Maybe,” Natasha says.

Maria hums in response, but Natasha never does ask, though she’s burning to know. Just how does Maria resist?

-

Five official weeks into their relationship, seven unofficially, and they’re making out on Natasha’s couch after the double date at the carnival with Sharon and Steve. The excuse of tea sits idle on the table next to them, hardly touched.

Natasha weaves her fingers through Maria’s hair and scratches her nails down her scalp. She moans alongside Maria, her stomach clenching while Maria takes advantage of her open mouth and sneaks her tongue in. Natasha swings her legs over Maria and pushes her torso in as she pulls Maria by her back. Closer. Her body demands it. Closer. Natasha kisses along Maria’s jawline, down to her neck and buries her nose, breathing in deeply.

“Nat,” Maria hisses, grabbing onto Natasha’s hip. Her fingers smooth against the strip of skin between her shirt and jeans and slide along her lower back.

Natasha bucks her hip twice, sharply. She bites her lip and groans, doing it again when Maria scratches the sensitive skin.

 She twists and shoves until Maria’s lying down, her hand holding Maria’s jaw and pushing it to the side. Natasha nips and licks the long stretch of neck under her, up and down, down and up until a long line of red appears. She grins at the mark and sits up, admiring it and Maria’s shallow pants.

Maria tugs her back down and wraps her legs around her waist. “I’m going to have to wear a collared shirt tomorrow aren’t I?”

“You don’t have to,” Natasha whispers. Her mouth latches onto the other side of Maria’s neck, it’s too pale. She’s fixing that with her teeth.

Maria sighs, her back arching. “I can’t have my pristine Ice Queen reputation shattered with hickeys on my neck.”

“They won’t be hickeys if it’s any consolation,” Natasha says, “it’ll look like one long bruise.”

“I don’t know if that’s better or worse.”

Natasha hums, going back to work, a nip there, a suck over here and a lick to soothe the pain. Her nose nudges past Maria’s button down shirt, going over her chest as her fingers work on unbuttoning from the bottom of Maria’s shirt. Maria really isn’t helping the process when she drags Natasha’s face back up to kiss.

There’s a weird lump in her shirt. Natasha breaks away for a moment. She looks down at herself and back up to Maria’s smirk. “When did you unhook my bra?”

Natasha spread apart the panels of Maria’s fully unbuttoned shirt, admiring her abs.

“About here, and here,” Maria points above her belly button and just under her bra.

“Not bad Hill.” Natasha reaches under her shirt and pulls down her bra straps, taking her bra off but leaving the shirt on. She tosses it aside behind her.

“Tease.”

Natasha leans back down and glides her chest from Maria’s lower stomach until their pressing against each other chest to chest.

“Terrible tease,” Maria moans.

“No, if I were a tease, I’d tell you my nipples just got hard but you can’t feel them cause you still have a bra on.”

Maria glares at her smug grin. “Okay, that was not teasing that’s called being a bitch.”

Natasha shrugs and nuzzles right above the exposed skin of her bra.

Maria actually rolls her eyes at this and pushes Natasha until she sits upright. Natasha quirks an eyebrow up, that quickly disappear when her shirt is shoved up and thrown out of the way. She opens her mouth for a quip, but then, breasts. Specifically, Maria’s. They’re right in front of her, nipples and everything. When did that…oh front clasp bra. Convenient.

Natasha Romanoff dose not drool. Though she’s getting pretty close to it. How long has she been staring and not touching? She shakes her head, touching would be good now. Except her brain and body aren’t connecting properly so she continues to rack her eyes up and down Maria’s torso.

A small switch in her brain turns on at Maria’s scent. Her body goes on auto-pilot.

Her mouth finds Maria’s nipple and she bites, enough to just be slightly painful while her hand squeezes the other. Maria braces her weight with her hands behind her at the sudden onslaught.

“Shit,” Maria hisses.

Natasha switches sides and Maria’s arms collapse, bringing them both back down. She pulls Maria’s nipple in between her teeth and raises her head, not letting go while it stretches between them, Maria’s back arching to follow Natasha’s head. The skin snaps back and Natasha does it again. Pull. Snap. Pull. Snap. A steady rhythm that has Maria squirming under her. Natasha pauses to lick the sensitive tip, smiling at Maria’s hiss. She maps out the texture of Maria’s nipple under her tongue, figuring out just the amount of pressure to keep it hard, and how much teeth to use to make it even harder.

Sitting back on her heels, Natasha wipes a bead of sweat from her forehead. She freezes. Sweat? Natasha sucks in a breath. Pheromones. Hers.

Maria cracks open her eyes. “Hey, you okay?”

Natasha opens her mouth and shuts it again. She looks at Maria’s eyes, the pupils are blown wide open, the blue of her iris barely noticeable. Arousal? Or affected by her? Natasha shakes her head and clears her thoughts. “Fine.”

Maria takes another second to look at her, evaluating her. She passes it seems, Maria smiles and grabs her by the neck, pulling her down. She nips at a spot behind her ear and Natasha positively tingles all over. Maria chuckles and does it again, harder.

Natasha’s body heats up, pheromones releasing without her willing them to.

“Stop,” Natasha says, pushing herself up.

Maria’s hands slide down her arm and holds Natasha’s hands. She blinks and looks up at her. “What?”

“We should stop,” Natasha says and swallows the lump in her throat.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Maria rubs her thumb across the back of her hand.

God her skin is too sensitive now, Natasha whines and grips her hand. It really doesn’t help when Maria brings her hands up to her mouth and kisses them.

“I can smell you,” Maria says, her eyes drinking in Natasha’s half-naked body. They’re unfocused. Affected by her scent.

Natasha scrambles off the couch and pulls on her shirt, not noticing it’s backwards. Maria sits up and starts to stand.

“No,” Natasha holds her hand up.

Maria sinks back into her seat. “Natasha?”

“Not right now.”

Natasha goes to her room, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. She inhales and exhales, repeats. Her body starts cooling down, just a tiny bit, but heats up again at the tiny knock on her door.

“Natasha?” Maria’s muffled voice goes through.

She doesn’t answer.

Maria sighs.

A few minutes later, Natasha’s front door opens and closes.

Natasha breathes in deep and holds it. Exhales. Her body is back to regular temperature. She’s in control. She can control it.

She doesn’t need it to reel Maria in.

She doesn’t.

-

Steve Rogers is pissing her the hell off and everybody in the room knows it, because she just slammed his own shield against his forehead. Natasha smiles at the satisfying thunk it makes and throws his shield across the mats. Steve wobbles and braces his weight on one knee as he rubs the welt on his forehead.

“W-What the hell Natasha? What’d I do?”

Natasha clenches her fist, she shouldn’t have thrown his shield away, his neck is a prime target right now.

“Romanoff, what are you doing?” Sharon kneels beside Steve, checking his eyes for a concussion.

“Neighbor,” Steve mumbles his eyes focusing.

“No concussion.” Sharon turns towards Natasha a frown firmly in place. “That was unnecessary.”

Natasha cracks her neck and turns away from them. She could throw Sharon off right now and beat Steve’s head against the cement ground. But that would be messy. And Maria would be angry with her. Plus the forms she’d have to fill out and the psych evaluations. Too much trouble.

The agents all scurry away from her as she stalks down the corridors to the roof. At least there no one would be asking her stupid questions. God, her hands itch to punch something.

She gets almost an hour’s worth of peace before it’s interrupted, not quite who she expects.

“He’s fine by the way,” Sharon says, sitting next to her.

Natasha doesn’t break her staring off into the distance. “Didn’t ask.”

Sharon stares at her. “Okay I’ll bite, what happened between you two?”

Natasha continues to look off into the cloudy city.

“Seriously? You’re not going to answer? You and Maria. What the hell happened? One minute you two are so sickly romantic even Clint wants to gag, and now? What happened?”

“I’m not talking to you about this Carter.”

“You’re going to.”

Natasha’s jaw clenches, she closes her eyes counts to ten and turns towards Sharon. “I thought she was immune.”

“Immune to what?”

“Me.”

“In case you haven’t noticed Romanoff, you got the girl. She’s not exactly immune to your womanly charms.”

“Not that, me. My pheromones.”

“Why would you think that?” Sharon looks away from Natasha then.

Natasha studies her then, unusual. “What have you heard about my recruitment?”

“Barton was crazy enough to not kill you and you took down ten agents in your ‘interview’.”

“And the crazier rumors?”

Sharon raises an eyebrow, but humors her. “That it was one big orgy fest that got you into SHIELD.”

Natasha nods her head. “Half true.”

“Wait, what?”

“They tried to wear me down, intimidate me. I showed SHIELD why I’m the best there is. I had them worshipping me in less than a minute.”

“Okay,” Sharon shakes her head. “That’s why Anderson salivates around you doesn’t she? And Cooper too?”

“Then they sent in Maria,” Natasha continues.

“Hold on, you and Maria had sex the first time you met?” Sharon looks curious.

“No, she wasn’t affected, no matter what I did.”

“She didn’t tell me that,” Sharon frowns.

“Don’t take it too hard, it’s probably classified.”

Sharon rolls her eyes, the old ‘it’s classified’ spiel. “Okay, so what, she doesn’t slobber at you, is that a problem now?”

“I thought she was immune to me,” Natasha restates.

“But now you don’t think she is, you’re not sure if she’s with you cause of you or cause of your pheromones?”

Natasha’s non-response is an answer. Sharon breathes deeply, centering herself before whacking Natasha across the arm.

She raises an eyebrow. “I’m going to let that slide.”

“God you’re an idiot! You both are, seriously, you two need to talk to each other,” Sharon brushes off her pants as she stands up. “And if I hear you question Maria’s feelings towards you like that again, I’m going to shoot your foot.”

“What?”

“You heard me Romanoff,” Sharon says, walking to the door. “Talk to Maria about it. Today.”

Natasha stares as the door shuts behind Sharon; she looks back towards the city and hugs her knees to her chest. The pit of her stomach flares up at the thoughts of Maria, she grits her teeth, tamping it down. She can’t talk to Maria today. Not until she has this under control.

Standing up, Natasha’s head goes fuzzy and she hangs onto the railings, the view of the cloudy city blurring. Taking in a deep breath, Natasha holds it, and exhales. She opens her eyes, all clear again. Her fingers are itching, her skin prickling just under her clothes. The coil of heat in her lower belly starts up again and just a tiny bit of her pheromones release into the air. Natasha clenches her fist. She can’t go through the building, not like this.

Natasha hops off the railing and scales down the 200 story building.

-

Three sharp knocks on her private apartment has Natasha jolt up from her couch. The icepacks dislodge from her forehead and stomach. She picks up her phone and quickly goes through the security camera feed. Maria Hill. Who is looking very pissed off at the camera in front of her. Before Natasha can even think about ignoring her, Maria knocks again.

“If you don’t open this door in the next 30 seconds, I’m blowing off the handle.”

Natasha tucks her sweat soaked hair behind her ear, she quickly makes her way to the door, no doubt Maria would actually break down her door. She opens it a crack.

“Yes?”

Maria’s nostrils flare. Pheromones. Strong ones. She shoves the door open and shuts it behind them before anymore can leak out into the hallway. Natasha’s leg bounces and her fingers drum along her forearm as Maria watches her like a hawk.

“When was the last time you went into Heat?”

“That’s a bit personal,” Natasha deflects. She turns around and flops back onto her couch, not even bothering to hide the icepacks. She slides one down her neck, closing her eyes at the small relief.

“This isn’t personal now, I’m asking as your superior.”

“You’re not my direct superior Agent Hill.”

“Would you rather I take this matter to Agent Coulson?” Maria goes to her fridge and pulls out another icepack, throwing it at Natasha’s stomach.

Natasha lets the icepack sit where it lands. “Fine, Agent Hill. I haven’t been in Heat for the past three months.”

“Why?”

She grits her teeth. “Wasn’t in the mood.”

“And you know what is detrimental to your biology. This, whatever you think you’re doing, is not healthy.”

“I can control it,” Natasha says.

Maria spots a clean towel at the sink; she wrings it under cold water and wipes the beading sweat from Natasha’s forehead. “Because you’re doing a damn good job at it now.”

“I’ve gone on for longer than this.”

“What’s different now then?”

“You.” Natasha looks at down onto her lap.

“Natasha,” Maria’s voice goes much softer. “What’s going on?”

“Why were you immune to me?” Natasha asks instead.

Maria holds Natasha’s stare for a few seconds then sighs in resignation. “I’m not immune to you Natasha.”

“I have never encountered anyone who could hold it together like you did. You didn’t even flinch.”

“Back then yes, I’m a bit different than other Alphas.”

“How?” Natasha catches the slight twitch of Maria’s fingers.

“I’m not affected by someone’s pheromones who I don’t know.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I have to have a connection with them, before it works, it’s why Fury sends me as a last resort to Omegas.”

Natasha looks at the blush on Maria’s cheek, winding down her neck. “You mean you have to feel something for them, before… that’s never been documented on Alpha behavior and physiology.”

“Believe me, I know that. My cases aren’t as rare as I thought they were though.”

“Who else…?”

“Can’t tell you that Romanoff, classified.”

“You were immune to me,” Natasha says. “Now you’re not.”

“Yes.”

“Because you feel something for me?”

“Yes.”

Natasha nods, mostly to herself. “I thought it was the opposite.”

“What, that I only like you because of your pheromones? You give them too much credit.”

“It’s how it’s always been.”

“Not for me. What does this have to do with you containing your Heat?”

Natasha levels her gaze. “I’m sure you’ve solved that question by now.”

“Me.”

“You.”

Maria sits back against the couch cushions, amused. “So, we’re wreaking havoc on our bodies because we didn’t know if the other felt the same?”

“That sounds about right, like every other romantic comedy cliché in the book.”

“Didn’t peg you as a romantic comedy type Romanoff.”

“Barton’s taste in movies is abysmal. And from where I’m sitting, I’m the one suffering,” Natasha gives Maria a pointed look.

“You have no idea how much willpower I’m exercising to not jump on you right now.”

Natasha tilts her head, dropping the ice pack onto the floor. “We’ve established that we both feel something for each other, and we’ve been holding back. Can we get to the sex now so my heart doesn’t feel like it’s going to beat out of my chest?”

“You’ve got a way with words don’t you?” Maria chuckles.

“Seriously,” Natasha points to herself. “Dying of Heat here. Quite literally.”

Maria crosses her arms over her chest, quirking an eyebrow up, a challenge. Natasha is going to destroy Maria’s control and wipe that infuriating smirk off. Closing her eyes, Natasha relaxes her body and lets the tightly wound control she’s had go. The hitch of breath makes her smile. She opens her eyes to see Maria’s flushed complexion and pupils so dilated the blue of her eyes is non-existent.

“Damn it Romanoff,” Maria hisses right before she grabs Natasha’s face and smashes their lips together.

Natasha kisses back with as much passion, shoving Maria down and climbing on top of her. She wastes no time grinding her hips against Maria’s pubic bone to relieve the built up tension. The tingles go down to her toes, Natasha’s eyes roll to the back of her head and she does it again and again until her hips are rocking steady.

The dry humping and make out isn’t enough. She craves skin contact. Natasha yanks Maria’s shirt out from her pants and rips the shirt down the middle, the buttons scattering across her apartment. Maria’s just as delirious with lust, she pulls Natasha’s shirt off. Natasha’s fingers wind through Maria’s hair, pulling into a fast when Maria licks her nipple and sucks it between her teeth.

“Yes,” Natasha hisses.

Her hips attempt to find friction wherever they can, rolling across Maria’s stomach. Not enough. Natasha pulls Maria back up, licking into her mouth with every other kiss. She takes Maria’s hands and guides them between her legs.

“Fuck,” Maria moans after she slips her hand under Natasha’s shorts.

“Mmhmm.”

Natasha presses Maria’s hand harder through her shorts, her hips cant forward at the pressure, her toes curling at the sudden tingles spreading through. Even through the cloth barrier, Natasha can hear Maria’s fingers slicking up and down.

Maria presses the heel of her hand, hard. Natasha’s jaw drops open, her spine arching, a long moan coming out.

Smiling against her neck, Maria asks, “Bed?”

Natasha leans back, looking straight at Maria like she’s crazy. “No. Right here. Now.”

Maria exaggerates her sigh, at least her hand doesn’t stop moving, sending tiny pulses of pleasure still. “I really want to eat you out properly.”

Natasha whimpers. She would like that too. “Later.”

Maria eases her hand up a bit and Natasha clamps her thighs around it, keeping her there.

“Not going anywhere, just want a new angle, right here,” Maria says. Her fingers flick against Natasha’s clit.

Natasha nearly flies off the couch, Maria’s arm wrapping around her securely. She’s panting through it all, her brain fizzling at the mercy of Maria’s touch. Her nails scratch uselessly against Maria’s shoulder, in time with Maria’s circling and presses. She’s so close, the feeling in her lower stomach getting hotter. And whatever Maria just did with her fingertips sends Natasha into her first orgasm.  Her mouth opens in a silent scream and her hips twitch against Maria’s hand that is gently rubbing her, easing her down from her high.

Maria takes her hand out from Natasha’s shorts, holding onto Natasha’s hip now; she discreetly wipes her wet fingers on her shorts.

“That took the edge off,” Natasha says with a smile.

Humming in approval, Maria kisses Natasha’s temple, to her cheeks and finally her lips. Natasha sighs into it, enjoying the caresses Maria has up and down her back. She lays her head down on Maria’s sadly still bra covered chest.

After a few minutes of basking, Natasha tilts her head up and eases herself off to look at Maria’s face. “How are you still coherent?”

Maria blinks. “Were you here five minutes ago? I believe you were the one who had the orgasm not me.”

“Yes, but with the amount of pheromones in the air, you should be buried between my legs or humping my leg. You’re functioning at a higher level. How?”

“You’re really interrogating me when we’re half naked?”

“Maria.”

“Okay,” Maria sighs, her thumbs drawing circles on Natasha’s hipbone. “You already know I function a bit differently than other Alphas.”

“We’ve covered that already.”

“I’m getting to it. I do lose my head, I could, but I try not to. This is me trying very hard to not, as you say hump your leg.”

“How’s that possible? Fury hasn’t tried to replicate the effects?”

“I don’t know how, and of course Fury has. They tried, it isn’t just brain chemicals. The experiments usually lead to the Alpha becoming impotent or acting hyper aggressive.”

Natasha takes a few seconds to herself. “You wouldn’t be telling me this unless I have the clearance.”

“You do,” Maria says with a shrug.

“I haven’t read anything on it.”

“Projects been shelved for a while. You haven’t looked into unsuccessful results yet.”

“Yet?”

“I know you’ll get to them.”

“You still haven’t answered my question though, how are you not a drooling humping mess?”

“I do not drool,” Maria states. “And you haven’t given me a reason to, not yet.”

Natasha sits up, offended. “This not doing it for you?” She gestures to her body.

Maria bites back her smile, it’s unsuccessful. “Believe me Romanoff, totally doing it for me.” Maria slides her hands up Natasha’s abs to her chest.

“Again, higher level brain functions, enough to be a smartass.”

“I take care of you first, it’s my instinct,” Maria says, licking and kissing the valley between her breasts.

“What?” Natasha cradles Maria’s head, her body starting to rock back and forth against the air.

“Before I do lose my mind, I’m guessing maybe four rounds, safe word?”

Natasha blinks. “No one’s asked me that before. We could do the stoplight, green, yellow, red?”

“And stop?”

“No, red means stop.”

Maria grins, predatory. Natasha is flat on her back again; her legs in the air as Maria pulls her shorts up and tosses them behind the couch.

“Wait wait,” Natasha rolls off the couch, onto the carpet.

“What’s wrong?” Maria asks, getting her breathing under control.

“Bedroom, so you can eat me out properly.”

Maria catches Natasha when she jumps on her, not even swaying. Her shirt is pushed down, dropping onto the ground, forgotten.

“Bedroom?”

“Down the hall, open door on the left.” Natasha assaults her neck then, biting and kissing until there’s several red marks, sure to turn into hickeys.

 “You have a marking problem,” Maria says.

“You love it,” Natasha counters, taking off her bra.

Maria retaliates by dropping her on the bed.

Natasha huffs at the treatment and Maria tugs her by the legs to the edge of the bed. Natasha’s senses go haywire again; Maria’s dropped to her knees and kisses up her thigh, so slowly. She lingers at the spot right at the top of her thigh, nipping and licking as her hand stays on the other thigh. Maria’s so close, yet not enough, everything she does sends signals right between Natasha’s legs. She doesn’t need to see or feel to know she’s swollen and already wet, and not just from the previous orgasm.

Tugging on Maria’s hair, Natasha pulls her to where she needs her most. Luckily for her, Maria doesn’t fight it and clamps her mouth in between her legs. Natasha falls onto the bed with the first lick. Her hips move on their own accord at the next ones. Her hands clench and release Maria’s hair with every swipe of tongue. The fire is building again with Maria stroking them.

She needs more though.

“Maria,” Natasha pants.

Maria answers with a hum, definitely pleasant, sending her toes curling, but still not enough.

“Just…oh yea, like that. Just _suck_ it.”

Maria does just that and Natasha clenches her thighs around her head. She’s shoving her clit into Maria’s mouth and pulling her head down at the same time, building the pressure. Several long seconds of hovering right at the edge, Natasha comes with a yelp, her body curling in, still holding Maria hostage. Maria’s mouth stays with her, riding out the aftershocks, and she teases Natasha by nipping. Too much now. Natasha’s hips snap up.

“Fuck,” Natasha hisses.

Wiping the moisture from her chin, Maria crawls on the bed, a smug grin in place and kisses Natasha. Still up in cloud nine, Natasha returns the best she can and slips her tongue into Maria’s mouth, licking her own taste along with something distinctly Maria. She wraps her legs around Maria’s waist, pulling her down. Natasha pauses. Maria still has pants on.

“Okay?” Maria asks, brushing aside Natasha’s hair.

“Pants off. Now,” Natasha orders. “Panties too. If you’re wearing them.”

“Bossy.”

Maria shimmies out of them, since Natasha won’t let her go. She makes a show of it, throwing them over the bed. Natasha’s legs uncross, brushing past Maria’s as the hook behind her thighs.

“Better,” Natasha says, her shins feeling the smooth skin on Maria’s legs. “Would’ve been faster if you were in your field suit.”

“Because walking down the streets with a SHIELD logoed field suit would not catch any attention.”

“Shame, next time then.”

Maria raises an eyebrow. “Fetish for field suits? Not in your profile Romanoff.”

“Fetish for you in anything that shows your curves.”

“That explains your eyes zeroing in on my butt every time I walk past you.”

“I’m not the only one who does that,” Natasha pouts.

“And I’m sure you’ve taken care of those who had.”

Maria sits up, rearranges their bodies, one leg straddling Natasha’s and hugging Natasha’s other leg in the air.

“Tribbing?” Natasha asks, a grin fully in place.

“What you had in mind wasn’t it?”

“You can read my sexy thoughts already, good.”

“Shut up.”

Maria grinds down, stopping whatever snarky remark Natasha would’ve said. Natasha doesn’t let her eyes close, even with every press of Maria against her. They stare at one another. Natasha’s eyes flitting from Maria’s pleasure filled face to her breasts moving along with her grinding. There’s no doubt the same movements are happening in her own body. Maria’s hips grind sharper, harder. Natasha grunts, low and guttural, a sound she’s not entirely used to hearing. Maria is pulling them out of her and she can’t stop her throat from making those sounds. She doesn’t try to anymore when it’s affecting Maria just as much as they are affecting her.

Natasha spreads herself with her fingers, wanting to feel more of Maria against her clit, she does the same for Maria and the desired result is instantaneous. Maria goes faster and drops Natasha’s leg, putting her weight on her forearms, framing Natasha’s body. Natasha’s hands fly to Maria’s butt, tugging her harder. She’s so close again, her body just itching underneath her skin. Natasha keeps her stare with Maria, there’s a desperate glint reflected on Maria’s stare, but not for her own pleasure. Maria’s not close enough for that, but she can sense Natasha’s desperation. Natasha falls first, her clit jumping against Maria’s so hard she can feel the blood pounding down there. Pulling her hands to her face, Natasha sighs and her body twitches in the aftershocks.

“Shit!” Natasha pants.

Maria’s got her mouth on her again, showing no mercy this time, completely sucking at her clit. Natasha’s whole body nearly jackknifes her off, until Maria pins her waist down.

“Okay?” Maria asks, stopping.

“Yes! Green! Keep going. _Oh…_ ” Natasha’s body shakes. Her hands clench her sheets, heels digging into the mattress.

Natasha bites at her bicep to keep the noises down, it doesn’t help. She’s whimpering.

“Inside, go inside me.”

Maria gathers the moisture around and slowly, so slowly, slips in one finger. Natasha grinds down, definitely not enough.

“Damn it Hill, you fucking tease!”

The chuckle really doesn’t help the situation. Natasha clamps her thighs around Maria’s head. That sends a message; Maria’s added another finger and crooked in fingers, doing a ‘come hither’ motion. Natasha’s legs fall back down, satisfied with it, for now. Natasha’s hips steadily roll against Maria’s mouth. It’s getting hot again. She grabs her own breast with her hand, clenching and kneading them with every thrust of Maria’s fingers. Natasha shivers and she moans so loudly, whatever Maria just did made her clench so hard. Maria does it again and Natasha barely registers that Maria’s brushing against the spot inside her, and damn it if Maria isn’t thorough because now every movement is pressing on it. Her breath comes in quick pants, her body thrusting up. One. Two. Three strokes. Natasha’s mouth opens and a strangled cry comes out.

Except Maria doesn’t stop, she goes faster and harder, pinning Natasha’s legs down with her own.

“Come on,” Maria whispers next to her. When did she get up there?

Natasha says something, but it’s not a coherent response. She’s squirming under Maria, to get closer? Get away? Both. At the same time. Maria’s pistoning her fingers in and out so fast now, Natasha can hear the wet sounds they’re making.

“One more, can you do that for me Nat?” Maria asks.

Nodding her head, Natasha mumbles, she doesn’t even know what she’s saying anymore. As long as her response gets Maria to keep going. Natasha comes again, her arms wrapping around Maria and tugging her down to sloppily kiss her. Maria’s still holding her when her head’s no longer foggy.

“Hey,” Maria says, kissing her forehead.

“Can we tell your Alpha brain you’ve more than taken care of me now?”

“Believe me, brain is noticing.”

Natasha flips them over, sliding down and kisses Maria’s lower stomach, right under her belly button. An impatient press on her head and Natasha goes lower, threading her fingers through Maria’s curls she nuzzles her cheek against it and laughs. She expects Maria to give her a snarky reply, but it doesn’t happen. Instead Maria pushes against her head again. Natasha glances up, Maria’s eyes are unfocused and her breathing is harder.

She bites her lip, oh yea, Maria is in Heat now too.

Natasha dives right now, licking Maria’s slit and pinching her clit. She can get used to the salty taste, slightly tangy and tastes similar to Maria’s mouth, she wants to keep licking Maria’s taste. So she does, pushing her tongue in and up while she rubs furiously on Maria’s twitching clit. Maria groans above and Natasha clenches her thighs together, a small relief. She keeps at it, pushing her tongue in and out, in and out. She feels more than hears Maria come, the muscles tightening around her and the come dripping down her mouth.

Wasting no time, Maria pulls Natasha up to her face and kisses her, lips sliding with the extra come still on Natasha’s face. She flips them back around, Natasha adjusting the pillow under her head. Maria slams their bodies together, hips angling just right to send Natasha’s eyes rolling to the back of her head. The panting and whining beside her ear are helping with the lust. She didn’t even know Maria could make such high pitched sounds. Maria buries her nose in Natasha’s hair and sucks the spot behind her ear.

“Faster,” Natasha whispers. Not sure if Maria knows what she’s saying, but it seems to, Maria’s hips pick up speed.

Her clit tingles first, spreading to the tops of her thighs and Natasha is desperately humping Maria to ease it. A few more seconds and Natasha comes, biting Maria’s shoulder. Her high continues, Maria not stopping the speed or frequency at all, a second orgasm hits Natasha right after the first. One long orgasm or multiple? Natasha doesn’t know.  The third one hits her as a surprise, her legs crossing around the small of Maria’s back as her back arches up. Natasha’s brain is a mess, she can’t think, only feel.

She’s still moaning, clutching at Maria. Until Maria comes this time, a deep guttural groan next to her ear. Natasha feels the spasms Maria has between her legs, sending another shock to her clit that has her scrambling back. Too much.

“Damn,” Maria hisses. She sighs and relaxes a bit, weight settling on Natasha.

“Oh no you don’t Hill,” Natasha says.

“Huh?”

“This is unacceptable.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“We’re not done,” Natasha pushes Maria onto her back. “I only gave you two orgasms.”

Maria laughs and hugs Natasha who’s halfheartedly pulling away. “This isn’t a contest Romanoff.”

Natasha purrs contently at Maria stroking the back of her head. Her eyelids are heavy. Natasha snaps them open, only for them to drift down a few seconds later.

“Sleepy?”

“No,” Natasha mumbles, nuzzling into Maria’s neck. “Gonna fuck you senseless when I wake up.”

“Mmm…promise?”

“Yea, wake you up with an orgasm.”

“Looking forward to it.”

-

“This is Hill,” Maria says into her phone in Natasha’s bathroom.

“Care to tell me where my right hand and best operative are, Agent Hill?”

“Director Fury,” Maria pinches the bridge of her nose.

“You two have a lot of paperwork to fill out.”

“I know Director.”

Fury sighs. “Take three days off Hill, you and Romanoff. Do whatever the hell you two need to take care of.”

“Of course, thank you.”

Fury hangs up on her and Maria breathes a sigh of relief. She does her business and sneaks back into the room, Natasha hasn’t even moved a muscle yet. Sliding between the sheets, Maria buries her face into Natasha’s hair, hugging her around the waist.

Natasha’s apparently awake, she turns and straddles Maria, pinning her hands down.

“You made me into a liar Maria,” Natasha says.

“Uh what?”

“I said I’d wake you up with an orgasm.”

“Ah that. Sorry. Bosses, you know how they are.”

Natasha stares down at Maria, her eyes going to her chest and back up. An idea formulates and she grins. “Go back to sleep.”

Maria chuckles and shakes her head, of course. She closes her eyes and feels herself drifting off in a few minutes. Before she completely goes to sleep, the tug of sheets around her waist sends a smile to her face.


End file.
